


Destiny's favour

by Pallalalo



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Blood, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Healing, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Nudity, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Possible Reconciliation, Possibly Unrequited Love, Pre-Slash, Sexual Tension, Slash, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Young Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, injured jaskier, jaskier centric, there's a bath involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:07:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22147645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pallalalo/pseuds/Pallalalo
Summary: He had been such a fool!No-He had not been a fool for believing in his friend, for offering his comfort. Not everything had been Jaskier’s fault. Damn it.The first night was tough. It was rough. Geralt had become such a part of his life that the absence was disorienting. The loneliness was hard to ignore, though he did his best._Jaskier travels alone now, but struggles to deal with his newfound loneliness.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 119
Kudos: 1997
Collections: Geralt is Sorry, Interesting Character and/or Interesting Relationship Development





	1. A lone beginning

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY so i just binged the Witcher on Netflix and I had a lot of feelings about 1x06 and all the fanfics on here are so good and I need more so here I am adding.  
> I haven't played the games nor the books so I'm relying on the show and the witcher wiki here (if i make any mistakes, pls forgive me)
> 
> also i don't have a beta reader so this is a hot mess 
> 
> Edit- wow thanks for everything guys!!! Ill reply to all the lovely comments tomorrow morning, i want to take my time with them. They mean a lot <3 ps i cant believe i forgot to add a summary and have gotten such a great response... i will add one tomorrow cause its 4 am rn and i am exhausted! I will write the 2nd chapted tomorrow as well haha hopefully ill post it tomorrow night! It will be...angsty. and fluffy.
> 
> i just love jaskier and think he deserves better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jaskier. I thought you’d be trailing behind Geralt like a lost puppy.” She leant next to him, a feigned boredom on her face.
> 
> The bard smiled sarcastically, “You would, wouldn’t you? But no. I’m here, alone.” He dropped the smile off of his face. There was no point in keeping secrets from her anyway, not with her magic and not with her cunning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get in the mood that I did for this fic, here's my playlist I created specifically to write this :P 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5rlufK6f6g4dFVMhqn3XZD?si=ha24GyqHQxu3LdhlBOzA0g  
> spotify:playlist:5rlufK6f6g4dFVMhqn3XZD  
> (#193 by alexbutterkuchen)

_“The Child Surprise, the djinn, all of it! If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take_ **_you_ ** _off my hands.”_

_“Right. Uh, right then. I’ll-I’ll go get the rest of the story from the others.”_

The air was impossibly thick between the two of them. Cold, harsh and tense. It was as if Geralt had cut something between them that neither knew existed until now-

Now that it had been severed.

“See you around, Geralt.” Jaskier said quietly, a cold hand gripping his spine.

What else could he say to him? Geralt’s face was still contorted in its fury- a face of anger and hurt and something less refined than that. He had just lost Yennefer. And now he had lost Jaskier as well.

The one constant in his life, the one who always had faith.

But this wasn’t Jaskier’s battle to win. He couldn’t win this battle. His heart couldn’t.

The trek down the mountain was long and arduous, not made any better by the heavy weight on his heart. It felt like he had swallowed a stone and it was just sitting in his stomach.

A stone that screamed “Damn it, Jaskier! Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days it’s you, shoveling it?”

It took him the rest of the day to reach the bottom of the mountain; the path that they had taken here together. It was dark and it was cold. Whether that was the internal feeling he couldn’t shake or the weather itself, he couldn’t tell anymore.

He had been such **a fool.**

 _No_.

He had not been a fool for believing in his friend, for offering his comfort. Not everything had been Jaskier’s fault. _Damn it_.

The first night was tough. It was rough. Geralt had become such a part of his life that the absence was disorienting. The loneliness was hard to ignore, though he did his best.

He did not stop walking until he found the closest village with an open pub. It had started to drizzle slightly, the cold moisture in the air causing him to freeze. He was not prepared for this weather.

He was also not prepared to see a certain dark-haired witch sitting inside.

_Damn it._

But he didn’t have the luxury of choice. The second step he took caused her to look up, an emotionless face except for her eyes. Oh, her eyes could convey a thousand emotions. Most of them negative.

He held his hands up, forcing a smile on his lips. Somehow, seeing Yennefer of Vengerberg in a pub, alone, made this all too real. He turned away from her, heading to the barmaid.

He ordered a drink for himself, intending to drink his sorrows away alone however Fate wasn’t so kind to him. Which, it never was.

“Jaskier. I thought you’d be trailing behind Geralt like a lost puppy.” She leant next to him, a feigned boredom on her face.

The bard smiled sarcastically, “You would, wouldn’t you? But no. I’m here, alone.” He dropped the smile off of his face. There was no point in keeping secrets from her anyway, not with her magic and not with her cunning.

“Oh.” Is what she said and he turned to look at her. Their eyes met and she was instantly in his mind. “I see.” She leant her face down, a small smile on her face.

“Don’t.” Jaskier said softly. Keeping it together was difficult enough without Yennefer’s chaos everywhere. “Please.”

Yennefer was taken aback by this uncharacteristically quiet man, staying silent for a while. Deep in thought or bored, Jaskier didn’t know and he didn’t care to know. He was ignoring the swirl of emotions inside of him. The voice in his head that was usually so loud and musical, singing and composing, was quiet for once. Everything was quiet.

The two drank in silence, something like a quiet agreement between them.

It wasn’t broken until Yennefer finally slammed her cup down.

“Right. That’s as much lamenting after a man as I can take.” She said, her bored voice loud all of a sudden.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jaskier mumbled, finishing his drink.

“Don’t be _stupid_ , Jaskier, I know you’re thick sometimes but you’re not stupid. Pick yourself up, your life is much too short to spend this much time mourning after something that never was.” Her words were harsh.

“Oh I get it, I’m a poor mortal compared to all you gorgeous ageless beings and my life is oh so short. I’m not in the mood, Yennefer, I wish to spend my time indulging myself for once.” He sighed, waving to the barmaid for a refill and slamming down some coins onto the till.

The barmaid, a slim woman with gorgeous fiery hair poured him a refill, smiling at him. Pretty. Usually Jaskier’s type. He felt nothing

He picked up his cup and turned to sit down at a table when Yennefer stepped in front of him.

“You already spent so much time on him, Julian. He is heartbreak and disappointment. I know this and so do you. You aren’t indulging in what you want to do, you are a mope and a fool for wasting your time like this. You are still young and you have a life ahead of you that does not revolve around him.” She said, quick and precise.

But Jaskier was not in the same state of mind to be cutting and quick, instead the alcohol slowed him down.

“Leave me alone, Yennefer. I don’t need your pity and I don’t need you to tell me how to live. I know I spent too much of my time on him.” He walked around her to a table, setting his lute down at his feet. She followed him with sad eyes.

“And guess what? I will spend more of my stupid life on him. I don’t think I know any other way anymore.” He said quietly. This night was just becoming more and more depressing.

He took a big swig of his drink, closing his eyes. He didn’t need to see her pitying him. He knew she had her eyes set on everything that life could offer her and beyond but he was not like her. All he needed in life, he had.

His lute.

His voice.

A friend.

Well.

Not anymore.

*

Yennefer left shortly after that. She wasn’t interested in drinking her sorrows away nor drowning in them, as she made it clear she was not gonna waste a good night like this on a man like Geralt.

She was better at dealing with heartbreak than Jaskier could ever be. And if that added to his mixed feelings about Yennefer, then so be it. He didn’t want to think about that either.

The mixture of intense jealousy, hatred and admiration.

And so the night goes on, ordering drink after drink. It became crowded. Laughter filled the air. Most ignored Jaskier, keeping to their surrounding friends. A few men spared him a second glance. 

One man leant down on his elbows in front of him, a smirk on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes. Handsome. Muscular. His hair was very light. The only thing Jaskier could think of though how Geralt's hair was much brighter than his.

He said something but Jaskier couldn't hear him, the world had gone silent around him. 

He managed to look away, shaking his head. The man left and if he said anything, well, Jaskier couldn't hear him anyway. 

He ordered a room for the night, unsure of where to go now. He picked up his lute, ordered one last drink for the night and went upstairs.

The staircase was small and reeked of wet wood, moans penetrating through the walls. It was one of those places.

The room was small with not much in it apart from the straw bed, desk and a cupboard. A little crowded. He laid his lute down on the desk, stroking the body of it. A gift from Filavandrel. His first adventure with Geralt. A memory that he was very fond of, even now with everything that happened.

Jaskier sank down on the bed, drinking miserably.

A shitty day, a shitty night.

*

Jaskier thought the first night was brutal. The morning after was worse.

His head pounded. His throat hurt. His coin diminished.

But worst of all, his heart ached just as much.

He set off from the small village a few hours later, with his lute on his back and the world ahead. He wasn’t sure where he was heading, now that he was alone. Perhaps he would visit his hometown, the family he left behind.

He hadn't planned on returning there any time soon, but then again he hadn't planned for Geralt to break whatever arrangement they had made. 

He had been a fool for allowing his heart to love a man who shut everyone out. It had been easy to love Geralt; the way he cared about people and his softness towards everything he cared about. The way he spoke to Roach, regardless of who was there.

Sometimes it had been really difficult to love Geralt though, like right now.

Though he would always love Geralt, he was on his own now. And he would try his best to stay out of Geralt’s way.

At least let Destiny grant him that one favour.


	2. Life's curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when he thought he had managed to convince himself of this, finishing off the last ballad for the pub he was performing in, the door slammed open. Jaskier’s heart dropped instantly. A bulky frame with unmistakeable golden eyes and white hair. Next to him, huddled up in a cloak a small child with equally white hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay! 2nd chapter! a lil short but the more juicier bits are on their way!!!

Jaskier heard of the battle of Sodden when he was travellling.

Yennefer’s disappearance after she saved the North from Nilfgaard. This was only a short time after their talk at the pub near the dragon’s mountain. This made him shudder, out of fear and out of shock. The most powerful mage he had ever met disappeared. He also heard how the Nilfgaardian army was driven back, for the short while it seemed the North was save. But this was only thanks to Yennefer. If he thought this first bit of news made him feel ill, the second made him feel even worse. A white haired witcher was seen on the cart of a farmer; out of it and possibly dying. When he heard this, he needed to sit down.

Mixed feelings rose in him like bile; like the need to vomit. And he did, but he managed to run outside at least.

 _Geralt_.

The farmer didn’t live too far away from the village he was in right now, maybe a days’ walk? Depending on the weather and his supplies he could maybe make it in less than a day? The panic he felt inside quickened his pace, his thoughts swirling around him. He needed to see him, he needed to see he was alive.

_He doesn’t want to see you._

A small voice in his head. That was true. It had not been that long that Geralt would be pleased to see him. Though he never showed if he had ever been pleased to see him. Jaskier’s stomach tightened and he stood up, dusting off his clothes. He clenched his jaw at that thought, his back tense with anxiety and maybe a new feeling.

Anger? Jaskier had always been Geralt’s friend. Always. But Geralt had not been Jaskier’s friend always. And now he was possibly dead somewhere.

Would he even want to see Jaskier one last time if he really was on his death bed?

The most likely answer was something that Jaskier could not think about.

But did he really have the courage to do it anyway? To search out Geralt and tell him to shut up, just _shut up_ , just let me say _goodbye_.

The answer was also something Jaskier could not think about.

*

The next he heard was the white haired witcher had found his child surprise. That cleared that up. Relief swept over him, his heart beating fast and excitedly. Geralt lives. He smiled so brightly, his cheeks ached. This didn’t last long though.

_He doesn’t care about you, anyway._

The ugly, small voice was back in his head. He looked away from the patron of the bar he had been talking to, excusing himself for a minute. That was true. Geralt never sought him out. And they had not seen each other again. It was pathetic, really. Jaskier, holding onto any piece of information he could hear about Geralt. If only Yennefer could see him now. He knew exactly what she would say. And it would all be true. But Jaskier really way trying to live his life and take pleasure in what he could.

The problem was a certain someone that never left his thoughts, that never left his dreams. The problem was that it was difficult to try and enjoy himself when he felt alone. He was surrounded by patrons, it was true. People tended to love his songs and paid to hear more. This was not a problem the way it had been before-

Before Geralt. And here was his main problem.

Geralt was in all of his songs. The songs about his tales, of course, but also in his love ballads. Maybe not originally and not intentionally, but his heart ached for him whenever he sung of love.

Unrequited love, of love that broke your heart, of love that filled you with such happiness you don’t remember a time before.

But there was a time before. And there is a time after.

So, yes, Jaskier really did try. He befriended whoever was friendly, with kind eyes and lovely words that did not hurt his heart. He drank and travelled, at first revisiting his favourite villages. With the war going on, there wasn’t much options to travel anywhere new.

He even went to Vengerberg. It was a strange place; certainly with the connection to Yennefer, Jaskier saw it as a strange place. Ironically, this was the place he heard about her disappearance. She had such an effect on people. Has. She may be gone but she wasn’t dead. Jaskier didn’t pretend to know a thing about magic but he had faith, though his faith did not mean a lot to people.

Or so it seemed.

*

After the news that Geralt had found his child-surprise there was not much more.

As Jaskier was the sole provider of the adventures of the white wolf, he did not hear anything from anyone else. This, he felt, was both good and bad. It was excruciating and embarrassing the way he was desperate for information about his- the white wolf. Surely, it was just for more songs to sing, he told himself.

That wasn’t so embarrassing. Just when he thought he had managed to convince himself of this, finishing off the last ballad for the pub he was performing in, the door slammed open. Jaskier’s heart dropped instantly. A bulky frame with unmistakeable golden eyes and white hair.

Next to him, huddled up in a cloak a small child with equally white hair.

Umistakeable.

Their eyes met.

“Fuck” Jaskier’s throat tightened. He quickly turned his back, shaking his head. “Uh, thank you so much for this l-lovely night!” He turned back to the crowd, a forced smile on his face as he ignored the frame by the door. “But I must get going now!” He waved and the people clapped.

They always did love the tales of Geralt. He collected his coin quickly, climbing down from the impromptu stage of two tables pushed together and put his lute quickly in its cover.

He had no interest in staying.

_Don’t you, though?_

Just as he made his way through the crowd towards the door, looking down, someone grabbed his arm roughly. Before he could say anything – complain, really, how _dare_ -

“Jaskier.” Geralt said quietly. Almost too quietly. Jaskier would have missed the way he said his name had the whole world not stopped. (And yes, he knew it didn’t. But, it sort of did.)

He couldn’t say anything. All he could to was yank his arm out of Geralt’s loosening grip. He pressed his lips together, his heart beating fast. He looked away from the man who he loved so, down to the child who was there with wide, bright eyes, staring at him with a sort of curiosity.

She had eyes like Yennefer- a deep magic that could kill you in a second. Jaskier looked back at Geralt who was staring at him, at a loss for words. His face had softened, and if Jaskier didn’t know any better, he would have thought that Geralt was trying to apologise.

But Jaskier did know better. This was Geralt. He would not apologise, not to Jaskier.

“I see you found your child-surprise.” He forced out, breaking the silence. “That’s-that’s good, I’m happy for you. I’m sorry life couldn’t grant you the one blessing you asked of it. I’ll leave you alone now.” He stepped away from the small space that had just been Geralt and him- nodded at the child with a forced smile and turned around, definitely not running out the door.

Gods, he sounded like a bitter ex. But wasn’t he, in a way? What would you call it, when something is over when it never really began? When you love someone so much but you never had the pleasure of indulging, only ever the broken heart that followed? If Geralt called after him, he did not hear him. And why would Geralt call after him, really? Jaskier wasn’t arrogant. He didn’t think that after all this time that Geralt secretly loved him and would drop to his knees and ask for forgiveness- and his heart.

No, he did not think so, but he had certainly hoped so.

_A stupid, foolish hope._

How could Geralt level him down to a lovesick fool? He hated the power that Geralt had over him that the other did not know he had. Tears were streaming down his face, the hurt from weeks (Weeks? Months?) a fresh wound, bleeding and aching. He ran and ran until he couldn’t. Until he was on the floor, heaving and crying. And wasn’t that pathetic?

All Geralt had said was his name.

It wasn’t even his real name.


	3. Life's blessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An idea came to him.
> 
> No.
> 
> “Geralt.” He said, dread in his heart.
> 
> Don’t.
> 
> “I-uh, I have a room booked for tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE!!!! I didn't expect this at all aaah you are all so lovely!!!!! This chapter is a little longer but ohhh boy i hope you enjoy
> 
> TW: blood (at the end, a lil bit)

After that fateful day, he seemed to bump into Geralt wherever he went. Almost every pub he was singing in, almost every village he stopped in, almost every country road there was, Geralt of Rivia and his child-surprise Cirilla were near.

He didn’t mind it. No, he didn’t mind it _at all_. He was a grown man, the world was big enough for the two of them. Even if it apparently wasn’t as Jaskier spotted Geralt across the pub. _Again._

He was tired. Tired, and almost out of coin. He couldn’t sing in front of Geralt. He just couldn’t. He was fine with singing songs about the man when he wasn’t right in front of him. But somehow singing the tales of their adventures together while Geralt watched, stone-faced with a smiling child next to him left Jaskier with a sting of rejection and embarassment. Those times were over.

Turning away from the door, he looked down and sighed. He was almost done with his dinner anyway and he already got a room for the night. This would be fine. For once, Geralt did not approach him. Maybe he had tired from this as well.

And so for the next hour, both men pretended. The pub was big and it was crowded. It was easy as Geralt and Cirilla disappeared in the crowd. Jaskier thought of just about anything else. Yennefer- still no word. The latest fashion- he had gotten this _lovely_ blue jacket and trouser pair recently. It was still clean and fresh, wrapped up tightly in his small bag that was attached to the lute. This was how he travelled now. His lute and a change of clothes. He didn’t know how long he could do this for, making up for money as he went around.

He wasn’t getting any younger after all, and not _everyone_ could be magical and not age.

It’s not that he was jealous, okay maybe a _little_ bit, but it was tiring. His back ached. His knees ached when he became too tired and couldn’t sleep. His fingers had rough callouses from the lute- his beautiful lute, mind you, but still- his left wrist ached after performances. And he was tired.

Finishing off his dinner, he brought the plate back to the barmaid, smiling at her. Just then he overheard, “Fully-booked, sorry. This whole town is packed right now.”

He looked over, and _godsdammit_ , it was Geralt and Cirilla. Now that he was closer to them, he could see just how dirty and tired they looked. The child couldn’t be more than 13 years old. And he knew from experience, when these places were fully booked, that meant they would spend the night sleeping on the forest floor, which they looked like they had been doing for the past couple of nights. Among all the bitterness he felt, he also felt empathy, especially for the child. Life on the road was never kind to a child.

An idea came to him.

_No._

“Geralt.” He said, dread in his heart.

_Don’t._

“I-uh, I have a room booked for tonight.” Geralt’s head whipped up at Jaskier, eyes narrowed. Cirilla, on the other hand, looked hopeful.

“Why don’t you two take it? I was just thinking I have some urgent business to attend to in- uh, in the town over.”

_You’re such a bad liar._

“Jaskier, I cannot accept that of you.” The white haired man said gruffly. Tense. Which just fuelled Jaskier on further. He was offering him an olive branch, he’ll be damned if Geralt doesn’t fucking take it.

Cirilla tugged on Geralt’s arm, eyes pleading with him. “No, really, it’s fine. You two look like you need a bath and a proper bed. I remember-” He was about to say how he remembered that travelling with Geralt could mean nights on the forest floor. But that would mean an actual conversation and it meant thinking about their memories. And he didn’t want to do that just yet.

“I really don’t mind. I should get going, really.” He pressed on.

“Please, Geralt.” Cirilla whispered, her bright eyes shining. Jaskier didn’t want to linger more than he was already but he couldn’t help but admiring the way Geralt softened at her plea and smiled softly at her. Wow. Geralt did have a soft side.

_Just not for you._

Jaskier shook himself out of it. He was pathetic, but he was _not_ jealous of a child. He wasn’t.

“Okay.” Geralt said reluctantly, “But I’m not letting you-” Jaskier was sure he was about to say something stupid like ‘I’m not letting you sleep outside for us’ but honestly, Jaskier was _not_ about to share a room with Geralt. He didn’t think his heart could take a second longer being near him.

So Jaskier interrupted him, “Great! Here’s the key, it’s the room up the stairs just to the left. I already asked for a hot bath to be drawn so- enjoy!” He slammed the key into Geralt’s chest and left quickly.

Picking up his pack and his lute, he slid his way through the crowd, praying to the Gods that Geralt would let him go. He knew Geralt didn’t like feeling indebted to anyone, didn’t take kindly to charity. But this wasn’t charity. And Jaskier did not want to be repayed.

When it came down to it, he didn’t even do it for Geralt. He did it for the child.

And Geralt did let him go.

*

Geralt had been right though. Giving up his room for the witcher and his child meant a night on the forest floor. Even if he hadn’t said it.

_What was that?_

Jaskier shook his head, curled up by the foot of a large tree, strumming his lute softly. He didn’t know he had this type of compassion inside of him. And now, he would have _stains_ and _dirt_ on him.

 _Breathe_.

He had a change of clothes, after all, and how bad could one night be? This town wasn’t known to be violent though if Geralt was here that meant there was a monster lurking nearby. Why else would he be there?

The forest wasn’t as thick as he had hoped it would be and the moon’s light was almost as bright as the sun. He couldn’t sleep.

“My dear love, how could you hurt him so?” He sang softly into the night, composing his next ballad. It was _not_ about Geralt.

“When your love was just too much to handle, the poor man drowned in the ocean of your heart” He continued, closing his eyes.

“The current was too strong for him, the darkness too deep.” When he opened his eyes, he noticed something was off. Someone was staring at him. His voice faltered.

“He could not bear it any longer though he kept swimming to find your heart.” He kept on saying. Nothing was out there, he was just imagining things.

“But now his lungs are full of water, he can’t see you anymore.” Was he taking the ocean metaphor too far? Maybe he needed something more subtle. Some crowds though never caught the subtle bits nor the metaphors. He sighed, resting his hands on his lute.

There was a sudden _THWACK_ and he looked above him in horror. A dagger was just thrown at him.

“This how I die.” He lamented and quickly got up, looking around for the source of the dagger. When he couldn’t spot anything, he yanked the dagger out of the tree, gripping it tightly. He knew whoever threw it was still there, waiting for another chance to throw another dagger at him. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to dodge it.

He bent down, low on the ground. He had caught some things from watching Geralt, after all. And not everyone took kindly to silly bards full of love songs. Still gripping the dagger, he packed his lute back in its cover, wrapping his pack tightly.

“Look, if you want my money, you’re out of luck, mate! I don’t have anything or else I wouldn’t be spending the night on the fucking ground, would I?” He called out, hoping it was a human and not anything supernatural. He could, _maybe_ , take a human.

What he didn’t expect to see was a _group_ of humans emerging from the woods.

He scrambled to stand up quickly, still gripping the dagger tightly in his hands. “What do you want?” He asked, trying to stand his ground, pretending to be brave.

There were four men, tall, burly and angry-looking. Not his favourite combo.

“Whatever you want, I’m sure we can talk about it with our words and not with violence!” He said, voice clearly shaky. He was clearly shaking as they came closer and closer, edging him against the tree. 

“We just heard your pretty little voice ringing through the forest. What’s your name, pretty flower?” The tallest man grumbled, slamming Jaskier against the tree with his hand on his chest.

_Pretty flower?!_

“That is none of your business!” He breathed, the air in his lungs useless as he hyperventilated. The man’s hand was strong , pushing him up against the tree.

“It is now. You see, we were just minding our business, going along this forest when we heard your voice. And we thought, my, wouldn’t you make a nice little present to our king?” He grumbled, pressing his face against Jaskier’s ear. He was shaking horribly, frozen and powerless. He hated it.

“No-” He breathed and the adrenaline finally kicked in, as he shoved the dagger into the man’s stomach and yanked it back out, “No! I will not be taken. What kind of a fucking king do you serve?” He yelled, anger and fear driving him now. The three men stared at the man on the floor, bleeding heavily.

There was a moment of silence. “We serve the Bandit King of Toussaint.” The man to the left growled, raising his swords towards Jaskier. “And we will-” The man never got to finish his sentence as a steel sword was rammed into his head, splitting it in two and yanked back out. The man dropped to the floor, joining his fellow bandit, revealing Geralt standing behind him.

Jaskier had never been happier to see Geralt- and yet, so conflicted. The two men split, one fighting Geralt and the other lunging at Jaskier. Geralt made quick work of the bandit, whereas Jaskier was struggling to fight off the last man standing.

The man grabbed him suddenly, twisting him around, causing Jaskier to drop his dagger suddenly. With Jaskier in front of him, Geralt paused. There was a dagger against Jaskier’s throat and another one threatening his back. There wasn’t much he could do to swallow his tears.

“Who are you?” The man gruffed behind him, watching Geralt circling them. He had Jaskier pressed tightly against him, sliding his dagger across his back without penetrating his clothes.

_Sick._

“I am-” Geralt hesitated, locking eyes with Jaskier, who wanted to say something, _anything_ , but couldn’t without getting his throat slit. “I am his friend.”

Jaskier’s heart dropped, and it was pathetic the effect that Geralt had on him. Still.

“Really? What’s your friend doing singing his little songs all alone? It made him look all up for grabs.” The man chuckled darkly, grabbing at Jaskier, dagger still in hand. The dagger against his throat was getting more and more threatening.

“please” Jaskier gasped, hands on the man’s arm, trying to shove his arm away.

Geralt looked murderous. No, he looked worse than murderous. “Let him go and I might let you live.” He said with no intention of letting him go.

“How kind.” The man sneered, “I think I’ll take my fucking chances.” He said, slitting just below his throat, missing it _barely,_ as well as slicing his dagger across his back. Jaskier cried out in pain as the man let him go, dropping to the floor. He clutched at his throat, blood flowing freely over his hands.

Geralt growled, storming forward to catch the bandit, splitting his head in half just like he did his friend as the bandit was about to run. He dropped to the floor, clutching Jaskier with furious eyes.

“Jaskier- hold on-” Geralt’s voice was breaking. Jaskier looked up in disbelief, eyes filled with tears.

He choked, “Wh-what-” he coughed up blood, “w-ere yo-you do- _doing_?!”

They were moving suddenly, the motion of it all caused Jaskier to almost pass out. “Don’t let up on that pressure, okay- I-I have to carry you-I didn’t- _Fuck_ \- I didn’t bring my bag!” Geralt folded Jaskier’s hands over his throat, pressing down. He had picked him up, running as fast as he could.

“m-my-lute” He coughed up, blood blocking his throat. He could feel his hands becoming drenched in blood. It was difficult enough to stay conscious, let alone pressing down on your throat to stop the blood.

“Jaskier, how could you- your lute will be fine, don’t worry about it. Just stay alive-stay alive, please, Jaskier- just-” Geralt’s voice was fading away as Jaskier’s vision faded.

“Julian-my name- Julian”

_"Julian, stay alive"  
_


	4. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt, worried that the moment had been ruined, smiled. And his smile was only for Jaskier. His knees were going to give out if Geralt kept looking at him like that. He looked away from the man, looking at his blood stained fingers. Geralt’s smile dropped like that and he rushed over, supporting Jaskier with a hand on his lower back and the other on his hip. Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T H A N K YOU so much for your support. you don't know how much your comments FUEL me and my writing. every single comment means so much to me, its so unbelievable the support you guys give me and i thank you so much!!!!! <3 <3 <3 i REALLY hope you love this chapter, i certainly loved writing it and wow. One chapter left. almost done! (although im like 88% sure im making this into a series and not a standalone fic but we'll see!!!)

The first thing that Jaskier noticed was the cold. He was freezing, shaking. The second thing he noticed was the crackling of a fire. But it was too far for him to feel it on himself. And with that realization, everything came flashing back.

The pain filled him so suddenly, he gasped in panic. There was a ripple of pain in his throat, preventing him from making anything but pained groans. There was a burn in his back, a long line of tight fire on his lower back and he tried not to move too much.

There was a noise, a gasp- _“Jaskier”_ \- and- and that voice. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. He forced his eyes open, trying to sit up. Geralt was above him, hair undone and unkempt with his eyes as golden as ever. He was gorgeous. It wasn’t fair.

“Don’t- be careful.” Gentle hands held him, nudging him to lay back down.

“G-Geralt?” He whispered, his voice weak. “Wh-what happened?” He couldn’t remember much. He had been singing in the forest. Men. Blood.

Geralt pressed his lips together, sighing deeply. “You were about to be taken as hostage to some bandit king.” He finally said, pulling his hands away from Jaskier, leaving him cold again. That’s when he noticed that he was shirtless. In front of Geralt.

A blush rose quickly to his cheeks, shifting uncomfortably. He touched the bottom of his throat, sealed but not quite healed. “How did you find me, Geralt? What were you doing in the forest?” He whispered, heart beating faster and faster.

The stoic man looked away, an emotion flickering over his face but Jaskier couldn’t put his finger on what it was. “I-uh- I was just finishing up a contract.” He said plainly.

Jaskier wasn’t quite sure he believed it.

_“I’m his friend.”_

He looked at Geralt with different eyes, remembering more and more of the night before. He was still hurt and bitter and angry. But he was also grateful, and maybe, just _maybe_ , he was hopeful.

“Thank you, Geralt, for saving my life.” He whispered softly, not daring his voice to be any louder than that. Geralt’s hard face softened the tiniest bit but Jaskier caught it.

“Thank you for giving us your room for the night.” He said gruffly. _Gods, did he only have that one tone of voice?_ Jaskier thought, a bittersweet smile on his face.

“Yeah, well. You two looked like you needed it.” Jaskier shrugged, looking away from Geralt. Fate really hated them.

Silence. Jaskier didn’t know what else to say except _“Thank you and goodbye”_ but he couldn’t quite muster up the courage nor the strength to get up nor to say it. Geralt didn’t make any move to stand up, sitting next to Jaskier on the bed.

Geralt opened his mouth several times as if to say something, shaking his head every time and closed his mouth again. The first time they had seen each other after the _Mountain incident_ the white haired man had looked apologetic. Like he was going to say sorry to Jaskier. Now, he had the same look.

This changed Jaskier’s mood. He was in no shape to move now.

“You told me something new last night.” Geralt settled on. Jaskier did not expect that.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You told me your real name is Julian. You said it like that was the last thing you were going to say to me.” Geralt looked back at Jaskier, his eyes soft and hurt. Oh. _Oh._ Jaskier had completely forgotten he had told him.

“I-I don’t know why I told you.” Jaskier couldn’t hold the eye contact with Geralt. There was too much emotion in his eyes, there was too much between them.

“Why did you never tell me? Before?” The other man asked, both curious and pained.

Silence again. Jaskier didn’t know what to say to that. Geralt never asked. About anything. Where he was from, why he was a bard, who he really was. And Jaskier had never wanted to show this side of him to someone he loved and to someone who so blatantly disregarded his friendship.

So he finally settled on, “You never asked.”

That seemed to take Geralt by surprise. “What do you mean, I never asked? You introduced yourself as Jaskier. I never had a reason to think that wasn’t your real name.” And wasn’t _that_ the most Geralt had ever said to him. Except for that one other time.

Jaskier frowned, heart aching. Geralt didn’t get it. “You never asked about anything about me. I must have told you my real name because I thought I was going to die and I didn’t want to die with Jaskier as my name. With my bard-name. I know you said to the bandits that you were my friend last night, but Geralt- you aren’t. You don’t know anything about me.” He started sitting up slowly, stretching his back to see how far he could make it.

Geralt stayed silent, looking down. Thinking. Or not. Maybe he was just being cantankerous, as he always was with Jaskier. He didn’t stop Jaskier from getting up this time. Jaskier managed to stand, on shaky legs, but stand nonetheless.

“Thank you for saving my life and healing me but I should probably get going.” He looked around for his shirt. Or his lute. Or his pack. “Wh-where is my stuff?” He frowned.

Geralt finally stood up, standing in front of Jaskier. “I meant it.” Too close, he stood much too close. Jaskier stumbled back a little.

“What?”

“I meant what I said last night. I am your friend.” Geralt said, frowning as well. Determined. But he was wrong.

“No, Geralt you aren’t.” He said softly, his heart reaching up into his throat and squeezing it tight. From the leftover wound or whether it was really his heart, he wasn’t sure. But he needed to say this. “You never were. And that’s-that’s fine, you didn’t need to be. I was _your_ friend, and that set up whatever we were. Me, tagging along and annoying you until you finally said something. I know its hard for you. With other people. But we were not friends. We were- I don’t know. I-” _love you._

Geralt followed Jaskier’s step, his hands reaching out to stabilise the weak and shaking bard. “Don’t touch me, Geralt. Please.” Jaskier looked down. Geralt still didn’t say anything. Heavy silence filled the room. The heat of the fire was replaced by the heat of them; the heat of embarassment filled Jaskier.

“I-Jaskier. What I said- about Fate giving me a blessing and taking you away-” Jaskier looked up at Geralt’s words, fists clenched and eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t mean it. Fate cursed me when you left me. I-I didn’t mean any of it. I’m sorry.” And there go his tears, flowing down his cheeks.

Geralt reached out again, hand still in the air, waiting for permission.

“What do you mean, life cursed you? It was you. You sent me away, you screamed at me to leave.” Jaskier said quietly. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He was angry, he really was, but he was also relieved and shocked. But most of all, he was bitter. “You found your child-surprise. How is that a curse? And what is it with you and Fate? I thought you said destiny doesn’t exist.” He clenched his fist, moving away from Geralt and towards the fire. He couldn’t bear to look at the other man right now.

_What did Geralt mean? Could he-_

“Yes. It was me. I was cruel. I-I was angry and I had just lost Yennefer and I didn’t think. I was a fool. I was a fool for letting you think that I don’t care about you. I do. I found Ciri, yes, and she has been the most important person ever since. But-” Geralt followed Jaskier across the room, hands still reaching for Jaskier.

“I missed you.”

And with that, Jaskier felt drained of all of his emotions. He felt tired. And weak. He leant against the fireplace, closing his eyes. Geralt had missed him. His deepest hope had just been confirmed.

So why was he not filled with joy? Isn’t this what he had been secretly wishing for this whole time?!

_No. It wasn’t._

“You missed me. As in, you missed having someone to kick around or you missed having someone who can get you into pubs?” He said bitterly. Geralt didn’t get it. Still.

Geralt’s fists clenched and he huffed. “Jaskier, that’s not what I mean.”

“Well, Geralt, it’s pretty difficult to know what you mean. I’ve heard more from you in the past ten minutes than I think ever. Usually, I talk and you just grunt.” And maybe Jaskier wasn’t being fair right now but it was getting more and more difficult to stay calm and quiet. It was getting more and more difficult to bury his feelings for Geralt, knowing they were unrequited.

To his surprise however, Geralt remained calm. “I know I treated you badly in the past. I know that. I was- and I still- I’m bad with communicating. But I’m trying. And what I’m trying to tell you is that I missed _you._ I missed your voice and I missed your stupid jokes. Your singing. Your ability to shake anything off and move on with your life.” Geralt was standing right behind him now. Jaskier could feel Geralt’s breath on the back of his neck.

_Surely, he didn’t mean-_

“And I-” Geralt was about to say something else, his voice low and quiet, almost a soft voice when the door opened and revealed Cirilla with Jaskier’s clothes and lute. Her eyes wide at the scene, she grinned brightly- “I’m so sorry to interrupt, I picked up Jaskier’s clothes. I’ll just put them down here.” She set them down next to the door, still smiling and closed the door softly.

The surprise visit had caused Geralt and Jaskier to jump apart from each other. The movement tore at the barely healed wound on Jaskier’s back, little droplets of blood forming on the forming scabs. He groaned in pain, blushing brightly that Cirilla had not only seen him like this but had caught him and Geralt in an intimate moment and also- She definitely knew something he didn’t.

He leant on the wall, clutching his back. The seriousness of the situation was replaced by Jaskier’s hyperactive laughter. “Your child has such perfect timing-” he couldn’t help but laugh. Honestly.

Geralt, worried that the moment had been ruined, smiled. He _smiled._ And his smile was only for Jaskier. His knees were going to give out if Geralt kept looking at him like that. He looked away from the man, looking at his blood stained fingers. Geralt’s smile dropped like that and he rushed over, supporting Jaskier with a hand on his lower back and the other on his hip. _Gods._

“I’m-fine- Geralt please.”Jaskier groaned as Geralt helped him lay down on his stomach.

“I’m sorry. I only had a healing potion for a human child. I didn’t carry anything for adult humans. Cirilla said she’d go fetch the ingredients I needed to properly heal you.” Geralt said, wiping away the blood off of Jaskier’s back gently.

“Oh.” Was all the Jaskier could say. Geralt’s hands were so nice and warm on his back. “I-thank you.” He said sheepishly. “You were going to say something before-”

“Yes.” Geralt said quietly, rubbing Jaskier’s lower back now. “I was.”

Silence.

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense, it’s killing me.” Jaskier groaned, peering over his shoulder back at Geralt. The soft eyes were back again, meeting his own eyes.

“I was in the woods last night because of you.” He leant closer, and Jaskier’s breath was stolen away. “I couldn’t let you sleep unprotected. I was about to invite you back to the pub when those men-” his voice became tight again, his eyes narrowing in anger. The hands on his back were still soft. “Those men wanted to claim you as theirs.” He finished, and Jaskier could _feel_ the anger radiating off of the other man.

There was almost something possessive about the way Geralt curled his hands around Jaskier’s back- something deeply intimate and personal. It did nothing but fuel Jaskier’s heartbeat, loud and fast and impatient. No doubt Geralt could both hear his heartbeat and smell the desperation off of him.

Despite everything- this was his chance.

“Thank you for not letting those men make me theirs. You don’t know how relieved I was when I saw you.” He confessed, turning around slowly. Geralt’s hands never left his body, sliding along to his stomach, holding his sides now. He sat up slowly, his body burning beneath Geralt’s hands.

“I missed you more than you can imagine, Geralt of Rivia.” He continued, their faces inches apart.

“I hope I can make up for ruining us, Julian. I will try my best to make it up to you- if you’ll let me.” Geralt whispered, honest eyes boring into Jaskier’s. And if Geralt whispering his real name didn’t make his heart _melt_ , he didn’t know what else could.

“Gods, Geralt. I-I don’t know what to say.” He honestly was at a loss for words. His suspicions and hopes seemed right. The other man hadn’t said anything explicitly but there was something again between them. Something powerful and intimate.

“Then don’t say anything. Think about it. I’m not going anywhere.” Geralt whispered, sliding his hand up Jaskier’s stomach to his chest, trailing up to his neck and cupping his cheek. Goosebumps, _everywhere_. And a very inappropriate (and yet appropriate) arousal in his trousers. Geralt _must_ know.

And so Jaskier didn’t say anything. He leant forward and kissed him.


	5. A Life Well Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I see you two have talked things out.” Ciri was small. She was small and had bright eyes; eyes that saw way too much.
> 
> “We have. Thank you for retrieving my lute and my clothes, you have my eternal thank you.” Jaskier smiled, dressed in fresh clothes, strumming his lute.
> 
> “Oh, no need. I couldn’t take Geralt in that mood for another day!” She giggled, sipping on her drink. Geralt was out taking care of the contract that had drawn them to the town (and if that had taken them to the same town as Jaskier, well Geralt hadn’t complained; according to Ciri.) It wasn’t a very strong monster, a simple contract.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOO!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF THESE I N C R E D I B L E COMMENTS!!!! i love all of you so much, this has been such a wild ride and its only due to YOUR support that I finished this with so much love <3 <3 <3  
> lmao its been 5 days and every day i wake up to such AMAZING comments and they get me through the day (When you're supposed to be studying for exams and yet here i am writing a 9 k fanfic about Geraskier. Jeralt? What is their ship name?)
> 
> ANYWAY.
> 
> ENJOY.
> 
> (this chapter has a different tone to the other chapters and i made a new playlist to reflect that: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2tIv0DfE1SVccmfdHA7fuF?si=P3LZieJJRVW_eqk_c-46pA
> 
> #165 by alexbutterkuchen)

The kiss was everything Jaskier didn’t know he needed. It was like he and Geralt were one. United. Geralt deepened the kiss, pulling Jaskier closer. His hands were pressing firmly down on his stomach, careful to stop Jaskier if it got too much.

It was Jaskier who started the kiss and it was Jaskier who stopped it, panting. Their eyes met and he couldn’t believe it. He really couldn’t. The past day had been such a whirlwind, it felt like finally there was calm.

“I-I wanted to do that for such a long time.” Jaskier whispered, leaning his head against Geralt’s cheek. “You have no idea.”

“I didn’t. Not until Ciri might have pointed out that your feelings for me had been much deeper than I ever suspected. She helped me figure out my own feelings too.” Geralt confessed, a softness in his voice that Jaskier was not used to. But he could, he really could.

“That Ciri of yours is too smart for you.” He chuckled, resting his hand on Geralt’s strong chest. “Remind me to thank her properly later. And introduce myself! What must she think of me, being whisked away by a handsome witcher?” The flirting came easy to him, but it wasn’t just flirting anymore. There was something more. Something deeper between them. And it was beautiful.

“What must she think, indeed.” Geralt mused playfully instead of answering directly. It was a side to Geralt that Jaskier had only seen rarely- a relaxed and playful Geralt was the most wonderful thing in the world.

*

“I see you two have talked things out.” Ciri was small. She was small and had bright eyes; eyes that saw way too much.

“We have. Thank you for retrieving my lute and my clothes, you have my eternal thank you.” Jaskier smiled, dressed in fresh clothes, strumming his lute.

“Oh, no need. I couldn’t take Geralt in that mood for another day!” She giggled, sipping on her drink. Geralt was out taking care of the contract that had drawn them to the town (and if that had taken them to the same town as Jaskier, well Geralt hadn’t complained; according to Ciri.) It wasn’t a very strong monster, a simple contract.

“How is he?” Jaskier asked, carefully. “I know the news that Yennefer disappeared must have been rough.”

“Well, I found him only a few hours after that must have happened. He knew instinctively that she disappeared. He cried so loud in his mind that I could hear it!” Cirilla said, hands gesturing to mimic the sound of his cries.

“Oh.” There was that twinge in his heart that felt so familiar whenever he had seen Yennefer with Geralt. “She’s still gone? I haven’t heard anything new. I’m afraid I don’t have any magic to help me out.” He chuckled, a bit forced.

She look at him for a second, face unreadable, “We haven’t found her. Of course, Geralt’s mission to find her was a bit derailed when we met you. The night we bumped into you at that pub- I love your songs, by the way! – he changed a little bit. He didn’t tell me much though he did tell me that he had been cruel to you and that he needed to make it up to you.” Cirilla smiled, pointing her small finger at Jaskier.

That warmed his heart, a slight blush on his face. There was a small voice in the back of his head, victorious that Geralt’s affections for Jaskier were stronger than his affections for Yennefer. But it made him feel worse; she was still gone. And she had been kind to him- sort of.

“I didn’t realize. I thought he hated me. What a coincidence that I kept bumping into you.” Jaskier chuckled, winking at the child.

“What a coincidence.” She smiled, eyes innocent though there was a deeper sadness inside her that she covered easily. Jaskier recognized that sadness. He had carried the same sadness within him for a long time.

*

“Jaskier, you’re here.” Geralt smiled softly after he opened the door. He was covered in a dark liquid- blood?- with a few already healing scratches on his face.

“Of course. I wouldn’t leave you now.” Jaskier smiled back at the bloodied witcher. “I asked for a hot bath to be drawn. I figured you would look something like that when you returned.”

“Mhm.” He nodded, closing the door behind him then paused, “Thank you.”

“Wow. Ciri must have taught you some actual manners.” He teased the other man, standing up to helped Geralt undress.

It’s been less than a day and it already felt like this was where he belonged.

“I mixed the ingredients into a potion. If you drink this, the rest of the wounds should heal quickly and leave only a fading scar.” He handed Jaskier something from his bag, hands lingering on Jaskier’s.

“Thank you.” Jaskier took the small bottle gratefully and drank it quickly. His wounds had been slowly healing over the course of the day, though still aching. As soon as he had swallowed the dark liquid, the pain was swept away and he regained the feeling of his back and throat.

“SO much better.” He sighed happily.

“Where’s Cirilla?” Geralt asked, a pensive look on his face.

“She saw some kids playing this game- I think she said knucklebones?- and off she went. That’s fine, right? How old is she?” Jaskier was not sure at what age children were allowed to wander off- especially under the circumstances of Cirilla and the men after her but Jaskier figured Geralt was near. And he heard the stories of her power.

Geralt chuckled, “It’s fine. I taught her how to take care of herself enough that she can wander off if she stays close. She’s thirteen now.”

“Ah, the sweetness of youth. I remember when I was thirteen- barely but I remember having not to worry about certain things.” Jaskier was about to reminisce but he slowed his talking when he saw Geralt undressing.

“Geralt?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?” Jaskier swallowed, standing close already but caught off guard just how quickly Geralt seemed to undress. First, his armour. Then his shirt.

“I’m getting ready for my bath.” The other man said as if it was obvious though he could see from the look that Geralt sent him that it was anything but.

“Would you-” Geralt was about to ask him something when they heard a knock at the door. He opened the door quickly to reveal the barmaid from downstairs with a large wooden tub and two people behind her carrying two steaming buckets.

“Thank you.” Geralt smiled and stood aside, letting them set the tub and water down. Jaskier was impressed; that tub was giant. The barmaid winked at him as she went by, setting the tub up in the middle of the room. “Is this alright?” she asked as the two young boys set down the two buckets next to it.

“Yes. Thank you.” Geralt answered and closed the door after the three left, not only had the barmaid winked at Jaskier but as she turned to leave, she winked at Geralt as well.

“There was a time when you helped me bathe. With chamomile.” Geralt’s eyes focused on Jaskier as he poured the first bucket into the tub.

Jaskier swallowed. He remembered. That had been a _very_ difficult time for his poor heart- and his trousers.

“Yes. Would you-” He paused. Was he really asking this? “Would you like me to help you again?”

“Please.” Geralt poured the second bucket in, the water steaming up the air between them. Geralt finished undressing, dropping his shoes and trousers next to the tub. Yes, it was definitely the water’s fault that it was so hot in here.

“Y-yes. Of course.” Jaskier swallowed, his face red and trousers tight. But he was a _gentleman_ , and he wouldn’t be crude. Though it was difficult not to eye the other man up and down, so muscular and fit and _big-_

“You’re staring.” Geralt smirked at the bard, laying down in the boiling water.

“Am I?” His throat was painfully dry now and he forced himself to turn away, wiping some sweat off of his forehead. He took off his jacket, folding it neatly on one of the beds and folded up his sleeves.

“Do you have any chamomile?” He asked, turning around to see Geralt staring at him intently.

“in my bag.” Was all he said, eyes hungry and devouring Jaskier- was it possible to have sex with just eyes? Apparently it was.

Jaskier walked over to Geralt’s bag, carefully fishing for the familiar bar of soap he had used months ago. Walking back, he kneeled next to Geralt, dipping the soap into the hot water and rubbing it over Geralt’s chest.

“I assume whatever creature you killed didn’t cause any problems?” Jaskier asked, carefully focusing on his chest.

“No, not at all. Do you want to hear the story for one of your songs?” Geralt smirked, his hand resting on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Really? My, Geralt. Usually I have to pry stories out of you.” Jaskier chuckled, pressing the soap bar into Geralt’s other hand and moving behind him. He cupped some water in his hand, pouring it gently over his thick white hair. It became grey as soon as the water soaked through the hair but remained its brilliance light.

“It’s a rather dull story. I’m interest to see whether your skill as a bard can make this into some grand adventure even though it would be a lie. What did you tell me? ‘Respect doesn’t make history’?” Geralt quoted back at him.

“I did say that.” Jaskier smiled fondly at the memory. “Are you doubting my skills?”

“Not at all.”

“You are.” He sniffed, “I take no offense as it is no challenge.”

“Is that why you changed your name to Jaskier?” Geralt asked quietly. Jaskier hadn’t expected to sudden change in conversation, scrubbing Geralt’s head with the hot water. Geralt had leaned back, resting his neck on the edge, looking up into Jaskier’s eyes.

“Partly.” He explained. It wasn’t a sob story- or rather, Jaskier didn’t think it was. This didn’t define him (although it sort of did?). “I changed my name to rebuild myself. I didn’t want anything to do with my family. I wanted to be my own man. I am Jaskier, Jaskier ‘tis I.”

“Family can be difficult.” Geralt grunted, “I- I really enjoy Jaskier.” He had closed his eyes while Jaskier had been talking, now looking up at him with those brilliant golden eyes.

“Oh? How much do you enjoy Jaskier?” Jaskier grinned, blushing.

“Very much. I fear that I enjoy Jaskier the way I do no one else.” Geralt confessed, sitting up and turning around. The steam was making it hard to breathe. It was the steam.

“Really?” Jaskier whispered, hands on Geralt’s shoulders.

“Yes. It took me too long to figure out. But I enjoy your company too much to go without. Would you join me, again? And Ciri?” Geralt reached out to cup Jaskier’s cheek again. He loved the touch.

“And Roach. Yes. I’m only joining for Roach though.” Jaskier grinned, chuckling and Geralt’s sudden tense shoulders relaxed. “And you, maybe. And definitely Ciri.”

“Perfect.” Geralt pulled the bard close and kissed him.

*

Yennefer was tired. She was tired and weak. She felt drained and almost like an empty container; hollow.

Waves were crashing somewhere close to her, she could hear them. And then she could feel them, tickling her feet and attempting to drag her into the ocean. She opened her eyes carefully, peering into the bright blue sky.

She sat up slowly, breathing heavily. And then she remembered.

_Tissaia. Sabrina. Triss._

 _Sodden_.

She looked around quickly, fists clenched. She had little left but- _silence._ Except for the waves, the occasional bird, it was silent. There was no one else here except her. She finally took in her surroundings; it was the beach where she had buried the baby princess. In her hour of need, this was where her chaos had taken her.

Yennefer nodded to herself, the promise she made herself ringing clear in her ears. She stood up shakily, stumbling almost. _Gods,_ she was so tired.

Her mind was filled with voices suddenly.

Tissaia.

A very weak Triss.

A weaker Sabrina.

And a very clear Geralt.

She shut them out for a second, breathing slowly and trying to regain some chaos but it was difficult. She knew that handling that much fire would tire her out. It might have taken everything she had- she was luck to be alive. But she _hated_ the feeling of empty inside. This was not her.

She was powerful.

She sat back down, taking off her shoes and letting the waves wash over her feet. There was so much life around her, she just needed some time.

“ _Yennefer!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on instagram (@schmalma) for the witcher doodles (including baby ciri in a lion onesie and Geralt in a wolf onesie)
> 
> ...also im like 99% im gonna make a sequel series with the gang where they finally find Yennefer and Jaskier has a lot of feelings and thoughts about it. So does Geralt. Yennefer and Cirilla have to deal with these Idiots in love. the angst, after all, has not been completely resolved ;)


End file.
